


Coin-Operated Boy

by knyf



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Light BDSM, M/M, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-02
Updated: 2013-02-02
Packaged: 2017-11-27 21:29:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/666686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knyf/pseuds/knyf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Baby knows that baby don't tease me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coin-Operated Boy

**Author's Note:**

> The only coherent thing to ever come from me trying to write based on a song.

"Doll?" Gerard hovers uncertainly. Beneath him, Frank is sprawled out over the butter yellow bed sheets, all strange angles and puppet-like limpness. It's too deliberate, too well-placed for the carelessness it would suggest, but it's dramatic all the same. A quote breezes through Gerard's head, Shakespeare, something about the world being a stage and the men in it but players.  
  
This bed is Frank's stage, and Frank is nothing if not a player.  
  
Which is why Gerard says, inquires, "Doll?" once more, to allow Frank the small gift of drawing out their opening scene a few moments longer.  
  
There is no movement, save the slight in-and-out of Frank's flat stomach, put carefully on display.  
  
Gerard gives a small sigh, his own brand of theatricality, and says softly --   
  
"Babydoll?"  
  
It's like the flip of a switch, the way Frank's eyes flutter open, each part of his body animating slowly, individually, a rippling effect traveling downward from his gorgeous eyelashes.  
  
"Why, hello there," Gerard says.  
  
Frank smiles pertly, perfect little lips a cherry shade of red.  
  
"Hiya," Frank replies, fixing Gerard with a stare that he's seen too many times for it to come off as innocent anymore. Gerard's eyes travel slowly down Frank's body. At least _he_ doesn't pretendto be innocent.  
  
"Mr. Way?" Frank says, and it pulls Gerard's eyes back up to Frank's face. Neither of them waste blood on blushing. "Are we going to play today?"  
  
Gerard blinks slow and half-smiles, stroking the side of Frank's cheek with his knuckles. He leans forward, only slightly, to catch a bit more of Frank's scent of cigarettes and fruity body spray. Frank jerks up quickly, like a twitch, and darts his tongue quickly over Gerard's mouth.  
  
Gerard leans forward again, this time pushing Frank down, forearm over Frank's windpipe. Gerard pushes Frank down flat, and climbs atop him, bringing their faces within an inch of each other.  
  
" _Baby knows, that baby don't tease me,_ " Gerard breathes out, a line of the song stuck in his head.  
  
Frank's unruly tongue drags over Gerard's lips again, slower this time around, and he begins to hum sweetly.  
  
Gerard slaps him hard across the face, and Frank keeps on humming.  
  
...  
  
Bruises are starting to form on Frank's jaw and neck but he keeps on acting, gazing on at Gerard with heavy looks through his thick, dark eyelashes and a crazed curtain of hair.  
  
"I hope you're ready, Frankie," Gerard says, throwing Frank's knees carelessly over his shoulders.  
  
"Babydoll," Frank corrects. "Dolls are meant to be played with."  
  
Gerard's fingers dig painfully into the ridges of Frank's hip bones. He's not playing. But all the same.  
  
...  
  
Franks giving skilled little hiccups and squeaks, tears traveling down his cheeks in rivulets. Gerard's got one hand on Frank's thigh, the other with fingernails poised at the end of deep scratches down Frank's chest.  
  
"What are you?" Gerard asks carefully.  
  
"D-doll. I'm a doll," Frank answers, breath hitching.  
  
Gerard's hand reaches out, grabbing Frank's balls and giving a sharp twist.  
  
Frank gives a half-scream, spine arching off the mattress. Gerard's eyes slide to Frank's lips, where his teeth gnaw his bottom lip.  
  
"No," Gerard's voice comes low like a growl. "What are you?"  
  
"T-trash, Mr. Way, I'm fucking trash." Frank gasps. His answer earns another twist of Gerard's hand, harder, and a slap to the face.  
  
" _What the fuck are you, bitch, what?!_ " Gerard demands.  
  
"I'm- I'm..."  
  
A shrill ringing cuts over Frank's answer.  
  
"Gone" Frank sighs.  
  
Gerard immediately releases Frank's flesh and sits up, off of Frank's shins.  
  
"Two hours go by like nothing, hmm?" Frank comments inanely as he sits himself up. He smiles as he wipes at the tears clinging to his skin, using the pads of his inked fingers. He reaches over to his cellphone on the bedside table, shutting off the alarm. As he pulls on his jeans he begins to hum again, and Gerard draws himself up against the foot of the bedframe, blankets enveloping him.  
  
"Babydoll," Gerard says quietly, watching as Frank tucks his hair behind his ears.  
  
"Frankie," Frank corrects, turning to face Gerard. Gerard's arm emerges from beneath the blankets, holding out a hand of folded bills.  
  
"There's- there's extra. Just. Just because," Gerard says, and like every time that timer's gone off before, he is back to himself now. Back to the stammering artist with the paint-smudged fingers and nervous half-smiles.  
  
Frank smiles as he steps towards Gerard, wrapping his hand around Gerard's locked fingers, and using it to pull himself into Gerard's personal space, where he rests his forehead against Gerard's.

 "Oh Mr. Way," Frank breathes, and then allows a few seconds of quiet before pulling away, money in hand. Gerard watches him tuck his cellphone and the money into his pocket while he walks to the door. Frank stops with one hand on the doorknob, and says goodbye with a half-wave. The door swings shut behind him, and Gerard knows it to be the curtain falling on their stage.

Gerard sighs, for no one's benefit, toying with a cigarette burn in his favorite blanket.  
  
His baby will come for the money, but he won't stay for anything.  
  


 


End file.
